


Live In The Moment

by EquineHorns



Category: Basketball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Basketball, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, NBA, Sex, Smut, Sports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:26:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquineHorns/pseuds/EquineHorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klay Thompson has quite complex feelings for Steph Curry, he doesn't quite know where or how it originated, but Steph invites himself over for the night like old times. Klay continues to feel conflicted and uncomfortable, until he gets what he wanted in the most unexpected way. (Takes place after game 7 against OKC in 2016 West Conference Finals)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live In The Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Steph Curry and Klay Thompson of the Warriors, explicit ero scene. You have been warned. :I
> 
> Written for myself, because writing fanfiction is for our own maiden hearts, and uploading on Archive finally. WOO.

Crowds died down, the noise and ruckus faded, the boys departed the stadium into the cool, night breeze. It was exactly 9:40pm, by the time they were done with interviews. An end to an astounding series against OKC, their team has overcome all odds in every possible way... as per the usual.

 

And as per the usual, a quick after-game party was being held at nearby. It was not anything overdone, because they needed to get their head in the game again. And very seriously, very soon. Draymond was the first to run off with most of the guys, yelling jokes and victories in the parking lot before they all drove off.

 

Klay lifted his bags and headed towards his car alone. The mood at the after-party was going to be light, positive, full of energy- he needed a break from all that. He had been in the limelight more than enough since game six, with Steph's injury putting him out of his game, and more stamina was drained from him than he had expected. Of course it was a good feeling (well... a really great feeling), to be praised as a rather large role in winning the series for the team. Instead of being namely Steph, for once. But he could not bear to be continued to be celebrated. He needed to chill out in his head and concentrate on the finals... in a mere two days, against the Cavs. Once again, the same team that have put so much pressure on the Warriors family exactly one year ago. This is why he needed to avoid the flattery and focus. Let Steph have it all.

 

It must be Steph in the limelight once more. Steph could handle this kind of pressure, praise, and God-revering attention without losing his mind, while remaining humble and compassionate... Klay shook his head. He is a very admirable man. Both as a player and as a person. And despite having a smaller and shorter frame, Steph is older than he is, and Klay both looked up to him and cherished him in an odd way. _Odd way, to say the least,_ he thought dryly to himself. If it weren't for Steph... If it weren't for Steph and many petty things Steph-related in the deeper parts of his mind, Klay would not be the player he is today. He would not be in the limelight as he is today, or titled "Splash Brothers" with Steph. He would not even be--

 

Klay flipped open his car door and threw his bags in the backseat. The entire backseat was full. This is probably the downside of having a sedan.

 

"Hey. Klay!"

 

Speak of the devil. He stiffened a bit as the familiar hoarse voice, quite unfitting to its owner's appearance, called out to him from behind. Klay didn't turn around. Pretending to mess with something in his backseat was probably better at that moment. "'Sup, Steph. You heading home now, too?"

 

The voice chuckled briefly, "I might. You know game one's real soon, and we got to keep our heads in the act... Nice for Kerr to plan this whole after-party for the rest of the guys though. It'll keep their spirits high."

 

"I just didn't see you with the team just now, so..."

 

Klay laughed, "As if the team's spirits aren't high enough now, right?"

 

It was time to steal a glance, because normal social standards call for it. And to avoid awkwardness. Steph was standing right behind him, eyes smiling as the two made eye contact. Klay faltered.

 

Steph leaned in just a bit, adjusting his backpack. "... Everything alright, man?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah! I'm just a bit tired from the pressure these past couple games."

 

"Want me to stay the night? And we can just talk before next game, like old times."

 

"Nah, really, it's nothing. I'll just try to stay focused for now, that's all--"

 

"I'm coming over."

 

The leaner man shoved himself in the way and slipped straight into the front passenger seat. He turned up to smile softly. "Come on, no worries. My wife will understand. I have a friend in need in an important time of his young life right now." He emphasized the words  _important_  and _young_ in a funny way.

 

Klay glanced away for a second. Just a temporary break from the whole compassionate, green eyes thing. "Thanks Steph."

 

\----

 

Overhead street lights flashed through the car window, one by one. Besides that, there was nothing but neighborhood homes and darkness outside, as Klay drove slowly back to his house. Maybe too slowly.

 

"How's your girl doing?" Steph's casual.

 

"I... that broke off awhile back, actually," Klay's hesitant. "Rocco didn't get along with her," he lied. Nobody would believe that. Rocco loves everyone. God dammit.

 

"Seriously, man? That dog loves everyone!" Yep. "Honestly, she sounded like a bit of a mess to begin with, from what I hear. So... no loss on your part then," Steph spoke carefully.

 

Klay decided to just nod and stay silent this time, in case anything else suspicious comes flying out of his mouth.

 

The rest of the ride home consisted of more Steph-banter and trying to put in a lighter mood for Klay, which he understood as the usual Steph's sensitivity and warmth. And it worked, more or less. For the most part, Steph just intuitively knew whether Klay was doing good or bad mentally, on a surface level. Fortunately, he could only sense those two variations- good or bad. If Klay were a better actor or simply more even with his emotions, life would be way easier, Klay thought dimly.

 

So what can he do.

 

\----

 

 

"You can throw your stuff on the couch."

 

Rocco panted and snorted his way towards them, attempting to jump up on Steph. "Heeey boy!"

 

Klay hung up his bags right next to his shoes, just for the night. His jersey will smell like hell tomorrow, rotting in the bag, but Steph's here tonight. This ordeal requires his full attention.

 

Steph immediately stepped toward the fridge in his socks, like it was his own home, like old times. "Just gatorade and orange juice? Are you vegan?" He chuckled.

 

"Sorry there's no chocolate milk for you, kid," Klay spared a joke in response. "Just stuff for real grownups like me."

 

"Yo," Steph laughed. "This is why you're so damn tall. How is any woman supposed to reach your face when she's trying to kiss you?"

 

"Come off it. How's any woman supposed to kiss a kid like you?" Klay winced at the thought. He pulled off his gross shirt and threw it on the couch. On top of Steph's stuff. Woops.

 

"My wife appreciates me for who I am," Steph laughed again and closed the fridge. Klay saw him steal a glance at the couch with said stuff-with-smelly-Klay-shirt-on-top. Klay cursed internally. _Not that Steph gives a damn, really_ , he mused. He's always been the only one overthinking things, that maybe Steph doesn't want his sweat and scent on his stuff anymore, despite being athletes covered in sweat and shit all the time, so probably doesn't actually care, even though he just looked at the couch, but since they're old friends, maybe Steph doesn't mind. Maybe Steph doesn't mind for different reasons. Maybe Klay is overthinking again. Ugh.

 

"I'm going to head up for a shower. Eat anything you want, get comfortable."

 

"We're still gonna have that nice and long talk later!" Steph called after his friend, as Klay zipped up the stairs.

 

\----

 

In what personally felt like one fluid, anxious motion, he stripped in the dark of his bedroom, turned on the shower, and immediately climbed in. The water was still ice and hit his face and body like little Steph-colored daggers.

 

He still can not comprehend what the intricacies are in his feelings regarding Steph. For Steph? Nah, it's not feelings _for_ or _against_ Steph. It's far more complex than that.

 

Steph is a good leader. Compassionate and loving towards the whole team, a great friend, a great husband, humble, reliable, successful, and really the single brightest star out of the guys. That's regarding work- regarding basketball. For Klay personally, Steph is a friend, understanding, _sensitive yet dense_ (Klay winced again), always going to great lengths to keep his close relationship with Klay, even if he doesn't really deserve it. And feeling just a bit of resentment towards Steph for his success and people-powers, and yet... Also strong admiration. He knows for sure that he admires Steph more than anything and anybody in his world right now. For all the reasons stated above, and maybe a little more. He wants to compete with Steph, yet he loves him. He wants to resent Steph for being completely able to shine in the limelight as the star of their team, yet he admires him much, much more than _that_ little seed of jealousy and negativity.

 

And therefore...

 

Klay bowed his head under the showerhead, so that the water hit the back of his neck. It was finally starting to warm up. He noticed that he had gone kind of hard just now, so it was a relief that the warm water might make it go down. Being hard is completely unacceptable while he has a friend like Steph over. Just when Steph is over, really. Or maybe he could jerk himself off real fast right now, to avoid anything unnecessary...

 

He palmed himself and held in his breath. The sound of the water drowned out anything that could potentially heard from outside the bathroom. His stomach churned at the thought of--- he couldn't even think it. Just stop thinking for a second.

 

His tempo quickened and tightened, as he released himself in the shower. Choking a bit, he covered his mouth with an arm. He was panting lightly, his mind wiped of complex thoughts for now. _Don't think anyone heard that._ That went faster than expected too, God knows why.

 

 

 

Wrapping his waist up with a towel, Klay stepped into his still-dark room and...

 

Steph was lying in his bed already, back facing him. He was shirtless, with the feather blanket pulled up just to his waist.

 

Possibly already asleep, from the looks of it. What happened to that "long talk later"? He smirked to himself. The whole team was tired as hell after this series, so Steph obviously was too. Just his banter on the ride back home was good enough.

 

He gazed at Steph... The way his back rose and fell lightly and steadily with each breath. Klay's chest turned uncomfortably, like a twisting in his ribs. That kind of discomfort that occurs when you're stuck in a hard situation that definitely doesn't have a good way out.

 

He pulled on some boxer shorts and quietly, gingerly, nerve-wrackingly slipped himself into the bed, too. What on earth was he doing. He put his head down on the pillow and stared dumbly at the back of Steph's head.

 

Tonight was not dark. The large window on Steph's side of the bed let in this blue moonlight at just the right angle that it hit Steph's smooth shoulder and neck like a feathered edge. The moonlight was bright enough that Klay could still observe the gentle curves of Steph's upper back, where lean muscle hit bone and muscle again on his narrow frame.

 

Steph's skin was tanned in just the right way, unlike Klay's pale countenance. But under the current light, he almost seemed to glow. Klay's eyes trailed along the nape of Steph's neck, before stopping at his shoulder once more.

 

He doesn't remember when they started sleeping together. Maybe around when Klay started on the team, and Steph wanted to welcome him fully as a brother and friend. _He did that very well,_ Klay thought to himself... _Maybe not quite as a brother, at the moment._ They spent the night at Steph's house then, and Ayesha was hospitable as usual, letting Steph waste the hours away with Klay to chat and do whatever they wanted. Ayesha ended up finding them the next morning in the same bed, to everyone's amusement. It was chill back then, and casual. It felt normal.

 

Somehow, this was no longer the funny brotherly love that had blossomed then. Maybe it still was to Steph, trying to retain their pure relationship somehow, which is what brought him into Klay's bed once more, shirtless and immaculate, or else why the _hell_ would he ask to spend the night again, and be lying in Klay's bed right now, God damn, Steph...

 

Klay didn't understand this churning boil of admiration and resentment towards Steph either, as he caught his eyes sliding around the dip in Steph's waist. The blanket covered just about to where his hips would have risen again.

 

Steph had such a small body, compared to him, yet was still plainly a man. It was beautiful, really, especially at night. He knew innately that this may or may not have contributed to his admiration for Steph.

 

Klay then abruptly wondered if this was as normal as they first thought, for two men to be sleeping together, and for him so casually adoring the other man's body. Also, he was beginning to get hard again... What the fuck.

 

He listened. Steph's breathing continued to be steady, peaceful. It gradually dawned on him that he wanted to touch Steph's waist, to see what that's like... Flawless. Maybe his whole body would do.

 

Not to help with Klay's current situation down there.

 

Steph was a man, after all, and not a woman.  _It's instant gratification_ , he thought loudly. He wondered if Steph could hear him thinking. Thank hell that people can't hear other people's thoughts.

 

As his fingers gently fell on Steph's waist, Klay found that his hand moved lower to shift the blanket down the other man's body, down to his boxers. He could see the hollow of his-- whatever it's called. The lowest part of his back, above his ass.

 

His hand slid up again, up Steph's firm ribcage, along his upper back, toward his shoulder, and his eyes moved with his hand. No tattoos. Pure. Untainted. He was so warm... Though Klay decided that he was actually probably warmer, at the moment.

 

Was it just his imagination, or was Steph shivering?

 

Somehow, the movement of his hand seemed to lift a scent off of Steph. Steph-scent. It was musky, yet not as thick as other men, but not too light and girlish. It ignited something within Klay. Familiar. Intimate. Sensual... He thoughtlessly opened his mouth as well, to thoroughly breathe in this Steph-scent...

 

"Klay..."

 

He withdrew his hand from Steph's neck like lightning and wanted to flip straight out of the bed and across the room, as Steph's hoarse voice emitted from his sleeping figure. Apparently, he wasn't asleep. _Apparently._

 

Klay hoped that he was asleep at least for the past ten minutes. "I-- thought you were out."

 

Silence.

 

Klay stayed stiff and stock-still. He kind of felt like a popsicle lying on its side. What was Steph up to? Was he asleep, or not? Maybe he was just sleep talking? _Dreaming about me,_ he hoped tentatively. Praying that he was just sleep talking.

 

He waited a little longer. Complete silence.

 

To his horror, Steph turned over in the bed. He rolled over to face Klay. If their proximity before was not close enough to be normal, this was now definitely, definitely too close. Steph's green eyes were half-open and locked with Klay's, and he could not help with stare back into Steph's hypnotic gaze with his jaw still hanging open.

 

Steph was not exactly smiling. Klay's thoughts raggedly zipped through his head in every which way, whether Steph still thought this was totally 100% normal, like he does everything else, or if it was just Klay himself going completely insane in the head, or maybe--

 

"So, I'm what was bothering you these days? I had a feeling."

 

The question was so incredibly direct and unfortunate that Klay distinctly felt his hard-on simply get harder, possibly already at a point of no return since a few minutes ago, _unless_ he can sneak back into the bathroom for a quick finish. Steph seemed to demand his full attention and focus.

 

Yet there was nothing for Klay to say. This was already as hot and awkward as it has ever gotten between him and another man, and he racked his brain for some totally reasonable and logical excuse for his behavior just now. Steph was just dreaming. Nothing happened. Klay was sleeping. Steph woke him up? He was trying to grab the blanket, but grabbed Steph instead!

 

God... There truly was none.

 

Klay ultimately decided that it would be ideal for him to get a quick heart attack and die on the spot.

 

Steph closed his eyes. Klay stared back with one eye half-closed, vigilant and on high-alert in every fragment of his body. But the other man stayed so still for maybe a full minute or two, that Klay thought that he must have actually fallen asleep this time, and maybe potentially forgotten about anything he just witnessed and hopefully forgotten about his question.

 

Klay froze once more. Steph's breaths became a bit ragged and unlike that of a sleeping person. He noticed in wonderment that the small, enclosed space between them became very warm and very humid, more than it was before, as Steph's now increasingly erratic breathing made Klay's entire being stand on end.

 

As if from his own dreams, unless he really was dreaming- Steph leaned in closer, until their foreheads were a mere inch apart.

 

The rustle of the sheets seemed very loud. Klay's body buzzed and sang in panic and craving. He felt the other man's warm hand cautiously touch, then wrap around his back. He noticed that Steph's hand was shaking.

 

Klay realized that he had forgotten to breathe and that it became unusually hot, before he leaned himself into an unexpectedly rough kiss. Steph reacted accordingly, choking a little bit for breath against his mouth. His lips were soft and uncoordinated, as Klay bit lightly onto the lower lip.

 

Klay could taste him... Stephen.

 

Klay noted that any woman and any man would long to kiss this kid, and that he hoped Steph knew he was joking earlier in the kitchen.

 

Steph pressed his body into Klay. The position was awkward, Klay realized, with two men trying to fit against each other. Their bodies both seemed to take up too much room. Steph was not like a girl at all. Steph was strong, rigid. Unsure, gentle. Flawless.

 

As if controlled not by himself, Klay pushed himself above Steph, his upper body supported just by his elbows on the mattress, like a cage around Steph, and Steph's arms now around his back. Steph's lips and body were still shaking. Klay pulled away from this strange kiss, and both men paused to breathe heavily and unevenly against each other.

 

Now, Klay gazed directly into Steph's green eyes. They were half-lidded, maybe wet, and full of a different emotion that Klay has never seen from him before. It made him forget all that was bothering him about Steph a mere hour ago in the shower and for the past few games. Something about Steph's look right now, and Steph's position right now, fulfilled an unknown and deep longing in his chest that had him by the soul.

 

Klay wanted so badly to say something to break the silence, to break the sound of sheets and bodies, but there was nothing off the top of his head except for Steph and embracing Steph and possessing Steph and hopefully fucking Steph, with his situation right now. Oh God.

 

He couldn't decide whether he was down or up on his luck.

 

Steph's eyes turned downward and Klay wondered what he was now looking at, when the sensation dawned on him that his hard-on was pressing through his boxers and against Steph's inner thigh. Both his boxers and Steph were wet with his pre-cum.

 

Despite what they were already doing, Klay's mind blew up again with thoughts of what Steph might think of him now. How shameful this was, now that his cover is blown, he is hard as fuck over Steph, and Steph knows it. He's not even _probably_ asleep this time. Klay is awake, Steph is awake, and Klay is turned on as day.

 

Steph finally managed a short chuckle, and Klay thanked the heavens for this cured silence. But Steph's voice was husky and broken, "We're-- we're acting like teen virgins."

 

"What am I supposed to do, Steph?" It came out too genuine, and supposed to be a rhetorical question. Klay noted that his voice also came out rougher and a bit higher than what's normal.

 

"Do what you wanted to do."

 

His eyes met Steph's once again in a painful wave of awe and yearning, and a deep heat for this man surged through him.

 

Steph aptly kicked off his boxers as Klay cast off his own, and he lowered himself into Steph. It was very, very difficult. The leaner man held his breath and choked as he was penetrated.

 

Klay had a bigger body, so had to weigh himself down on Steph so that they were pressed together like a scalding puzzle in order for Klay to move properly. Steph was definitely a virgin, in a manner of speaking, and both the physical binding sensation and the thought turned Klay on much, much more. The man below him was very warm. Hot. The movement of his hips instinctively became faster and more unstable...

 

Klay felt himself already near climax from being hard for so long, _but fuck me, this went by way too fast,_ the thought flew through his head. He forced himself to stop moving and let himself collapse on Steph.

 

He was still inside him. He could feel the inside of Steph's body tensing around him... probably from the pain.

 

The smooth shoulders and neck from before were now wet with beads of sweat. Though Steph's eyes were closed, Klay could see the wetness on his brow and look of anguish on his features under the moonlight. Steph panted... probably from the pain.

 

An overwhelming feeling of guilt flooded through him. Was this really what he wanted, what he desired from the start? Was this his intent for the past few months, or was this something new that he desired only today, an instant gratification or reward, for when Steph forced himself over to stay the night? It was worth it... It was not worth their friendship. It was not worth Steph's compassion.

 

Klay moved his head down into the nape of Steph's neck and rested his weight, only partially. "I'm... I didn't mean to do this to you, Steph." His voice came out too quiet.

 

He felt Steph stiffen under his body.

 

"Do you feel better?" Steph's voice was soft, hoarse. Reassuring.

 

Klay felt himself throb inside Steph. He was aching so badly to move quickly and finish the job. His mind was telling him to stop right here. There was a ball in his throat. "Yeah... Not-- not yet."

 

Steph's arms reached around Klay's lower back. "Keep going."

 

Klay drove all reasonable thought out of his mind. The ball in his throat remained. He closed his eyes and pushed out and inside Steph once again, as Steph choked a cry. His hips wanted to crush Steph into the bed, and pain flashed on his lower back, and he concluded that it was Steph's nails.

 

The man below him shook and breathed into his neck, and Klay almost whimpered as Steph trembled around his dick and Klay released himself inside. Steph stroked himself as well within the tight space between them, and unleashed onto both their abdomens.

 

Klay's heart was pounding, as was Steph's, and he withdrew and kissed him immediately. It was not the time to look into those green eyes yet. It also just occurred to Klay that he might've been crying while fucking his friend, and so Steph's face was getting more wet than it was before. Klay's body and face are probably also flushed red, whether from heat or humiliation... Steph was lucky for his tanned skin. Thank God it's night.

 

Klay rolled off of Steph to face the ceiling, still breathing heavily. He shut his eyes tight, because tears were not supposed to come out at this time. But they peaked at the corners.

 

And _also-_ what has he done?

 

To his dismay, Steph turned and brought a hand to the opposite side of Klay's head, gently ushering his head to face him. Klay opened his eyes. Steph's eyes were lidded and drained, but smiling. "Don't worry about it, man..." His voice was still husky. Klay did not want to listen to this. He did not want to answer. He did not want to think.

 

"Klay... hug me."

 

The demand caught Klay off-guard, and he intuitively rolled his body to face Steph once more and pressed his arms and body around this smaller frame. What has he done?

 

Steph's head buried itself in the collarbone of Klay's neck. Klay wondered briefly how Steph is able to breathe down there. A small, throaty voice came out of him, and the ball rose into the top of his throat again, "I didn't mean to do this to you, Steph." He said this before.

 

Steph said nothing, but wrapped his arm around Klay's shoulders. Klay stiffened as he felt Steph's lips touch his collarbone. He wondered if Steph was just living in the moment, or if...

 

Klay pushed all thoughts and reasoning out of his head again, to live in the moment as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, to be continued. THERE IS MORE. NO CLIFFHANGERS HERE. For anyone who actually enjoyed this, it is definitely one of the most niche fanfiction ever, and also we're friends now.


End file.
